


Sore Winner

by Loverontheleft



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, F/M, Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 11:52:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loverontheleft/pseuds/Loverontheleft
Summary: By request: here’s a prompt Brendon comes out of the bathroom and he appears to be naked; like he’s got his dick out you know, then you look down and you realize he is wearing nothing except for bright pink crocs.-I think the person who requested this was kidding, but I’m not-Brendon x readerWarnings: language, dirty talk, sex, spanking.Word count: 2.7k





	Sore Winner

**Author's Note:**

> loverontheleft.tumblr.com for dirty talk and requests <3

You’ve been on edge all day.

_You woke up and checked your phone and realized what day it was and abject terror instantly struck. Brendon knew it too; he rolled over and took you in his arms, kissing your neck. “Ready for today, my love?” His voice is scratchy with sleep and you could turn in his arms and shove him on his back and sink down between his legs and blow him, just to have him moan your name in that voice - except. Except. Except it’s against the rules._

_“Is it the end of the month already?” You asked him breathlessly, hoping for an error, a reprieve, something. He nodded, still kissing your neck and shoulder, fingers running over your side._

_“It sure is, Y/n.” He let his tongue caress your earlobe. “And I’m so fucking ready.” He rolled onto his back, stretching and groaning. You watched needily, whimpering as his erection proudly tented the sheets. “I’ve got a really good one this month. I mean, a really good one.” He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “God, this is it. This is my month, I can feel it.”_

-||-

You’re downstairs, wandering aimlessly from room to room before dropping onto the couch with a dejected sigh. “Alright, think,” you say aloud, rolling onto your back to ponder. “The rules are simple.” You review them. “Rule one - it has to be the last day of the month and both parties have to be awake. No springing it on them at midnight. Done.” You check it off mentally. “Rule two - anything purchased must be less than ten dollars, receipts available as needed.” Another check; you haven’t bought anything. “Rule three - all parties must still make seduction and sex a priority; no rendering oneself unattractive for the purposes of victory.” Check. “Rule four. No oral sex, but other positions as needed are fine…How the fuck did this even start?” You ask the question to no one; Brendon has been in the studio as soon as you finished breakfast. Brendon. This was all his stupid (yet hilarious) idea.

-||-

_“Baby, I have an idea,” Brendon murmured. You turn and kiss him, legs wrapping around his waist, moaning when you feel him hard against you. You reach down and try to guide him into place, thrusting down to take him. You give him a frustrated look when you can’t get more than the head of his cock in you. “Along those lines, yes,” he said with a grin. “I want to play a game.”_

_“I love games,” you purred, running a fingernail down his chest and squeezing around the tip. “Count me in.”_

_“Don’t you want to hear the game first?” He gave you a knowing smile. “We have great sex, right?” You nodded, unsure of where this is going. “We always tell the other how sexy we find them, and then follow up with some ridiculous thing to prove our point. For instance, yesterday you told me I could read the phone book and you’d come. No touching, just me reading it aloud would send you over the edge.”_

_“Yeah…?” You tried to focus but you needed more of his dick in you. You managed to wiggle down and get the head plus a solid inch in your heat, but you needed more._

_“I think, once a month, we should each try one ridiculous thing of our choosing and see if we can still make each other come.” He looked pleased with himself and his smile grew when you laughed delightedly. “There will be rules of course. But the main objective is to make the other come while doing or wearing something utterly ridiculous. The first person to come loses.”_

-||-

“It was a good idea,” you muse, staring at the ceiling. “Can’t fault him there.” And, you admit to yourself, you’ve had some insane, and insanely hot, sex as a result. But this month Brendon is so confident and you have no idea what to do. You don’t want to lose; nothing happens - there’s no wager or bet or stakes - just bragging rights. But you’re both fiercely competitive and you’ve won the last two months. You’re unwilling to give up your title without a fight. “What the fuck can I do?”

You’re still pondering when Brendon comes in from the backyard and gives you a knowing smirk. “I’m gonna go shower, baby. You should…get in bed.” He must have been playing drums because there’s a sheen of sweat over his face and arms and his shirt is clinging to his chest and his hair is a mess. Good, you think. He’s been hard at work, and the harder he works, the harder, and more, he wants to play after. And if the eye-fucking he just gave you is any indication, he didn’t leave the studio to lose. Wait.

“Fuck.”

-||-

You stand outside the bathroom door, listening closely. “You better not be in there jacking off to keep from coming later,” you warn. He laughs and calls back that while he wouldn’t dream of cheating, he also doesn’t need to cheat to win. Damn. You head for the Halloween closet, grasping at metaphorical straws and literal costume pieces. Surely there’s something in here you can use. The shower is still going and you’ve got a bit more time. You’ve got nothing. Absolutely - oh. Well, that’s an idea. Would it-? The shower stops running and you scamper back to your room, stripping and climbing into bed. He didn’t tell you to strip, but you don’t feel like wasting time.

When he comes out of the bathroom, you’re curled up in bed, waiting for him. “You look good, fresh out of the shower,” you tell him, patting the spot next to you. “Highly fuckable. You always look good and you always look highly fuckable, but right now, in particular, I want your cock in me.” He grins and walks closer and that’s when you see them and you are slightly horrified and amazed and amused. “Brendon, what the fucking fuck are those?” He laughs and places a foot on the bed next to you. You rip your focus from his cock, which is showing some interest in your nude form and causing your mouth to water, since you can’t blow him anyway, and stare at his feet. “Where the fuck did you get bright pink crocs for less than ten dollars?”

“Your mom,” Brendon deadpans and you roll your eyes. “No, I’m serious; these are Cathy’s. She said I could borrow them for as long as I needed. I don’t think she knew what I was going to use them for, though.” He winks at you and you keep staring. “Oh yes. I’m going to fuck you while wearing your mother’s crocs.” His face turns smug. “Told you it was a good one.”

“I have a good one too,” you counter, tugging him into bed and straddling him. “And I really want to fuck you, so if you could-“ he grabs your waist and rolls you both over so you’re under him and his mouth is working over your neck while his fingers move down from your waist to your hip to your thigh before hitching your leg up higher so you can feel his hardness against you.

“You’re bluffing,” he murmurs. “You’ve got nothing.”

“Nope, I figured something out,” you sigh happily. “I’m wet enough that you could just - oh fuck,” you whimper when his fingers delve deep. “Yes, play with my pussy, rub my clit, fuck me,” you gasp, writhing under him.

“Oh, trust me, I’m going to. And you’re going to come so hard, even with me wearing your mother’s crocs.”

“Okay, you’re gonna need to stop mentioning my mother if this is going to happen,” you warn him and he grins, promising to not mention Cathy again as he shifts his hips so he’s aligned with you and you prep yourself - the delivery here is key - it’ll set the tone for the entire - he pushes in and you grab his hair, bringing his mouth close. “I’m carving pumpkins, it’s almost Halloween.”

His hips still and he gives you a strange look. “What?”

“All my friends are wondering what they’re gonna be,” you elaborate with a grin. “What’s wrong baby? Thought you were going to fuck me.” He nods decisively and his fingers are in your hair and his hand on your thigh tightens as he returns to his steady pace. You’re desperately trying to focus on the lyrics and not let yourself come but he’s using all of the tricks; lifting one of your legs and pushing it towards your chest, sucking on and licking at your neck, moaning your name, telling you how good you feel on his cock, how badly he wants to feel your pretty pussy squeeze his dick when you come on him.

“Fucking love you,” Brendon groans in your ear, “even when you’re quoting my lyrics at me, distracting and strange as it may be.”

“The monster mash is playing, you’re - oh fuck-“ he’s grabbed your hips and is angling you slightly so he can grind against you every time your pelvises are flush together. “Moving to the beat,” you manage, “and now we’re going to teach you-“

“It’s March, you know that right?” Brendon asks breathlessly. “Your song choice doesn’t make any sense.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s getting to you.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“I’m totally fi-“

“To do the trick-or-treat.”

“I swear to god Y/n, this is killing my mood. If you move on to my chorus, I promise I will spank you with one of your mother’s crocs.”

You grin up at him. “We agreed you wouldn’t reference my mother anymore while fucking me. You know I have no choice now.” He groans and rests his forehead against yours, hips still rocking hard against you, mouth on yours to try to muffle your next words. “Everybody scream-“

“I’m gonna make you scream,” he tells you, tangling his hand in your hair and tugging gently. “I’m gonna make you scream my name while I fuck you hard from behind.”

“Promise? Everybody scream, it’s almost Halloween.” You’re panting, biting your lip, waiting for him to lose it. His thrusts have gotten shallower and sporadic and you think you might just win. He’s been pushing himself over the edge just by trying to fuck you into silence; all you’ve had to do is remember lyrics and stay composed as best as possible.

“That’s it,” he growls, nipping at your neck. “Hands and knees.” He pulls out of you roughly and together you flip yourself over so you’re burying your face in your arms, ass in the air, waiting for him to take you again. “You just love pushing me, don’t you?” You can hear the amusement in his voice. “Bad girl.”

“Mmmm,” you agree. “And bad girls should be punished.”

“And punished you will be,” Brendon promises you, and you can feel him grab at his feet, tugging. “Fucking pink crocs,” he says with a laugh, rubbing your ass gently with his hand. “Tell me to stop if you need me to.”

“And what if I want it harder?”

“Tell me that too.”

You’re grinning into the pillow and you wiggle your hips at him. “Do the trick or treat, do the tri-oh Jesus fuck,” you moan when he rocks back into you and spanks you hard with the shoe. “That stings,” you gasp, and he makes a concerned noise. “I didn’t say stop. Liked it.”

“My little freak,” Brendon groans, and you squeal with pleasure when the shoe makes contact again. He’s thrusting hard, his other hand wrapped around your waist and lightly teasing your clit. “You still okay, baby?” He murmurs this, his tone soft and tender and you brace yourself with your forearms and grind back against him, moaning your confirmation. “Good.” He pulls almost all the way out and you hear the whistling of the air through the holes in that damned shoe before the contact.

“Fuck,” you moan, “that one hurt more. Not so hard.”

He instantly drops the shoe and flips you over, kissing you gently. “I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbles against your lips, one hand cupping and caressing your face while the other runs over your body before sliding down your back and rubbing gently at the tender skin. “What do you need? Tell me what you need, I’ll make it happen, my sweet girl.”

Your breathing is ragged. “I need you to fuck me,” and you arch your back so his dick, currently pressed between your stomachs, twitches, hot and slick and hard. “And I need you to spank me because fuck it makes me hot, but not that hard, Jesus that rubber stings.”

“I can do that,” he promises as his forehead rests against yours. “I can do all of those things.”

“Yeah?” You turn under him, purposefully rubbing your ass against his leaking cock, moaning and whimpering as you do. “Gonna spank me, gonna fuck me good, fill me up, get me moaning your name, begging to come on your cock?”

“Fucking love you,” Brendon groans again, clutching at your hip and kissing your neck. “Jesus, you’re so fucking sexy, grinding up on me, begging me to fuck you, like I’m not about to bury my dick in your tight pussy, shit.” He’s breathless, his voice tight and constrained. “You’re sure you want me to spank you?”

“It’s almost Halloween, everybody scream.” You barely get the words out before his arm tightens around your waist and he jerks your hips up so he can fill you. “I haven’t, oh god. Brendon, yes, fuck me like that just - I haven’t learned my les- oh motherfucker, that feels so fucking-“

“Who’s bringing up her mother now?” Brendon says with a laugh and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You haven’t learned your lesson,” he agrees, and he’s fumbling for the shoe he dropped earlier. “We should fix that, yeah?”

“There’s a devil in the corner- oh my god,” you shriek, “fuck yes, do that again.” The shoe swings and his hand tightens in your hair near the roots and he tugs just as the shoe hits and you’re biting your lip trying not to come. “Baby,” you gasp, bucking your hips back needily. “Spank me, fuck me, make me come.”

“You wanna come?” Brendon’s voice is a low purr behind you and he spanks you twice more, smiling to himself when your sounds of pleasure move from high-pitched squeals to lower moans as you fuck yourself on his cock roughly. “You wanna come, even though you’ll lose?”

“I never lose when you make me come,” you quip, giggling to yourself and moving your hips in small circles. “Besides, you forget I know you. I can feel you. You’re close, baby. You’re so close to filling my pussy with your cum, fucking me hard and fast and rough, spanking me, pulling my hair as you come in me. Come in me Brendon, spank me and come in me. Spank your bad girl and fill up her pussy with your cum.”

“You,” and the shoe hits, “are,” and it lands again, “a bad,” and a third, “girl. Love you so much though, my bad girl.” His words are choked out, his voice tight, his hand on your hip tighter. He’s still spanking you and you’re moaning his name, begging him to come in you. “Gonna,” he grunts, spanking you one last time before dropping the shoe and bringing that now-free hand to your clit and teasing. “Come in you,” he finishes, and you both let out a moan of pleasure as his climax rushes through him and you gasp your victory before letting go and letting yourself come.

-||-

“I win,” you point out breathlessly when you’re both clinging to each other, trembling occasionally. “I win. You were so confident, and I still won.”

“No one likes a sore winner, Y/n,” Brendon teases sleepily, kissing your jawline while his fingers draw small circles on your stomach.

“If you didn’t want a sore winner, shouldn’t have spanked me with my mother’s croc.”


End file.
